It Was Peter's Fault!
by heroesfan1
Summary: It really was all Peter's fault. Oneshot.


**Hi! This story was in response to the prompt "It was Peter's fault." by julyisfree:). Reviews are awesome, so please do leave one..Thanks!:)**

_9 years after the Carnival, Sylar and Claire's apartment.._

Claire stormed into her apartment, face like thunder. Her apartment was a shade of what it had once been. Paint dripped from the ceilings. The walls which were once white, were now different shades of green, blue and red.

"Sylar!" She yelled.

Sylar stepped out from behind her couch. He too, like the apartment, was covered in paint. He smiled sheepishly. Claire covered her mouth with her hands, stifling the laughter that threatened to burst out. Seeing the ex-serial killer covered from head to toe in paint was, to say the least-humorous.

"Honey, your home!" He crossed the living room in two strides, holding his arms out as if he was about to hug her. She stepped away. She might have reciprocated if he wasn't dripping in red paint. "So what happened?" She gestured to the walls and his general outfit. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again. Finally, he decided on the words he wanted to use. "It was Peter's fault." She narrowed her eyes. "You asked him to help you paint our apartment, didn't you?" Sheepishly, he nodded.

Claire threw up her hands, frustrated. "You have got to be kidding me right? I told you specifically not to ask him to help, right?" Sylar nodded his head slowly, as if he had just remembered. "Then why did you?" Sylar glared at her. She could be so _bossy_ sometimes.

"I didn't!" He cried out defensively. "He offered." Claire crossed her arms and surveyed the dripping wet, unevenly painted walls. "What the hell did he do? Throw paint at the walls?" Sylar chuckled. "Noo…He tried to use telekinesis to paint, but…" He gestured to the walls. "Things got a little..Out of control.." Claire laughed at his understatement. "Where is Peter anyway?" Claire asked. "He sort of fled after...all this happened." Claire smiled devilishly. "We are so going to get him back for this." Sylar nodded in agreement.

"How are we going to clean this up?" Claire, still laughing, asked. Sylar smiled, and brushed a lock of gold hair away from her face, staining it red. "Why do we have to do that now?" His voice was tinged with hopefullness, like a little boy on Christmas morning. Claire tiptoed up to give him a small peck, but he held her close to him, not allowing her to pull away. She smiled up at his brown eyes, and flung her arms around his neck. He ducked his head, and brought his lips to hers. She felt his strong, paint splattered arms moving down to her hips. "You owe me a new suit jacket." She whispered against his lips. "Mmmhmm.." Was Sylar's only reply as the kiss deepened.

Suddenly, he swung her out and into the wall. Claire grinned as he moved in on her. "Okay, forget the suit jacket. You owe me a whole new outfit." She murmured, as his hands on her waist left red handprints on her china-blue T-shirt. His lips crashed down on hers, stopping her from saying anything else. His hands left her hips and moved up to her hair and cheeks, leaving a trail of red paint in their wake. Claire's hands, now also paint stained from the wall, moved under his plain white T-shirt, onto his well-defined stomach. He chuckled and pulled away from her for a couple of seconds, catching his breath. "Fine, I'll get you a new outfit, as long as you help me wash up later." He waggled his eyebrows at her, making her chuckle. "Whatever." She shrugged off her expensive Armani suit jacket, and grabbed him by the shirt, pulling his mouth to hers again. She remembered thinking how unfair it was that a person(Sylar) could be so attractive, even while covered in paint. "Love you." She chuckled as she pushed him backwards, hard, so he landed on the sofa. He chuckled as well as she climbed on top of him. "Love you too." He smiled as he pulled her down to him.

The sound of someone clearing their throat, made them both jump, sending them tumbling to the floor. Claire could have killed herself when she saw her father, Noah, standing at the doorway. _Shit! She had totally forgotten to close the door._

"Dad...What a urm..pleasant surprise." Noah scowled at Sylar, like he always did, and Sylar grinned in response, like_ he_ always did. _Some things will never change._ Claire thought to herself, shaking her head. "I just thought I would stop by and see how you two were settling into your new apartment..." He stopped short when he saw the state of it, and took in the couples paint splattered outfits. "Do I _want_ to know?" He gestured to the apartment.

Sylar and Claire glanced at each other then at Noah, smiling crazily. "It was Peter's fault!" They both cried out at the same time, bursting into laughter. Noah shook his head. He would _never_ get these youngsters.


End file.
